Death to the UnDead
by MissHaunted-MoonLight
Summary: Even the most powerful of wizards can’t escape from it. And Death has been waiting for the Chosen One a very long time. OneShot. Character Deaths.


**Death to the UnDead  
By  
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx**

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

**Summary: **Even the most powerful of wizards can't escape it. And for the Chosen One, it's been waiting for him a very long time. One-Shot. Character Deaths.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Jo Rowling's a hero of mine though… does that give me legal rights?

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

No, I thought not. So I own nothing, then. (Sigh)

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

It lurks in the shadows.

It hides in his friends.

It takes refuge in those far-and-few brave lunatics who dare to venture outside their homes after dark.

Actually, scratch that. _Before_ dark, even.

It thrives on the War.

It _lives_ for the War. For the innocence it can claim as the minutes tick passed. Every few seconds it can claim another victim; just one more lost soul in need of rescue.

It can provide that rescue. It can provide sanctuary.

The fog is swirling around the planet, weaving its unforgiving, steady path over the entire map like a colossal veil, plunging the world into deep darkness.

And Harry knows the time has come.

For seventeen years, he's evaded it. His family and friends have been less lucky.

And unfortunately, so has his enemy.

But not anymore.

Two immortals are fighting a losing battle, that at one point may even have taken an eternity.

Back when Harry was oblivious, back when he knew nothing of Voldemort's plans, back when the Horcruxes were safely unacknowledged, the two of them had been fighting a never-ending conflict.

But not anymore.

Said Horcruxes are all but destroyed now.

Only _they_ remain, the last, both alone at the end of it all, and both dying.

Standing tall, one before the other, wands raised and poised and expressions stormy, the winds whip at exposed skin and both shift slightly, standing their ground amidst the chaos around them.

The Final Showdown.

This won't be a battle of wills, not this time. It's gone way beyond that, now. Beyond the point of no return.

And both can feel 'it', gliding around them, sending chilling fingers to wreak havoc upon their straightened spines as they glare at one another from across a dying field.

A field littered with the broken bodies of their allies and enemies. Men, women, children and creatures alike.

A foul but lingering stench rides on the winds as dust is blown skywards, falling like ash around them as they simply stand there.

Both staring. Both sensing it as it smiles cheekily at them, licking its lips in anticipation.

After a moment, it sighs heavily, letting the wind whisk the content sound away into oblivion.

And finding a comfortable spot on which to sit, it waits and watches and wonders.

Who will fall first?

Yesterday, Harry was an immortal, much to his own surprise as well as Voldemort's.

They'd started this, they'd fought so hard against each other only to realise that neither one of them could die, and Harry had lost the last of his family to 'its' awaiting throes. Ginny Weasley had joined her brothers, her mother and father, her best friend, and Harry could only envy her of the release she'd received while _he_ was stubbornly left behind.

But not today.

And Harry now knows why he's survived for so long.

_He_ is the final Horcrux.

Which means that _this_ will have to be done with immense care.

There they both are, two undead souls fighting for the fate of planet Earth, fighting for the future of the human race, and Irony likes to have a good laugh at their expense by warning them that to kill their enemy, they must first kill themselves.

But that's fine with them. Voldemort is prepared to wait for Harry to make the first move and then walk away victorious while _Harry …_ well, Harry simply has nothing else left to lose.

After so long, he's tired. He just wants this to end.

But while Voldemort may think he knows that already, he hasn't counted on 'it' to intervene.

Because it, for once, agrees with the Chosen One, but is also obliged to warn him that his time is up as well. It just wants to be certain that it finds itself _two_ lost souls tonight, not just one.

And Harry is perfectly willing to oblige.

With muted calls of immense power, the landscape is suddenly illuminated, a light show so intense, so vibrant, so bright that the Gods themselves are amazed by the beauty.

An eerie emerald glow filters out over the desolate, barren wasteland, burning brighter and brighter until 'it' is laughing.

Minutes pass.

Then hours.

Then days.

And suddenly, everything stops. The world is no longer green-tinged, but still. The air no longer screeches with power and magic, but falls silent. Even the wind is holding its breath.

And as the light finally fades, as the dust finally settles, as 'it' draws in a deep breath it hadn't even realised it needed, the truth is revealed.

The field is bare.

Empty.

The warriors are gone.

And 'it' grins with delight as its senses shift into overload. Two souls are in search of rescue, and it is more than happy to guide them.

With a cackle of pure glee, it swoops below ground like a ghost, dragging with it the spirit of darkness that has for so long tortured Earth's inhabitants, both magic and muggle. The flames lick tantalisingly at its soaring wings, but it merely brushes the unfurling tendrils away and releases its death-grip on the spirit's floating arm, sending him falling away into Hell.

Voldemort's screams are soon drowned out by the cheers of a billion souls.

And it grins elatedly, finally having restored the balance that has for so long been hanging by a barely existent thread.

Popping back up from the Earth's very core with a flourish, it sighs happily and meanders leisurely towards its second, much more priceless soul, tapping unconsciously at the black notepad enclosed within its clawed grasp and running an anxious bony hand down the front of its ebony robes, calmly smoothing out the creases.

And with a genuinely warm smile at the young boy who has saved the Universe, Death fades out of existence, leaving Harry Potter standing tall, tears of joy and relief falling gently down his ashen cheeks, surrounded by his friends and family, reunited at long last.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

**Um … don't ask. I have absolutely **_**no**_** idea where this came from …**

**Still, whatever. It's killed half-an-hour and it's helped me to forget about tomorrow's exam. Three cheers for distractive plot bunnies!**

… …

**Ahem, I'd love to hear what you think about this! Weird is my personal opinion of it, but … what the Hell. You only live once!**

**Blessed Be!  
Hugs,  
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx**


End file.
